


Elusive Dreams

by moderatocantabile



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fuhrer Roy Mustang, Lust, Lust at First Sight, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moderatocantabile/pseuds/moderatocantabile
Summary: In the veiled and sumptuous atmosphere of the castle, the Führer is bewitched by a woman of certain significance. What was meant to be a simple affair de coeur, became a dangerous liaison.
Relationships: Roy Mustang/Original Female Character(s), Roy Mustang/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Elusive Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I already tried to post this once, but I changed my mind and redid the first chapter.  
> disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding FMA.
> 
> this is my first time writing something, so feel free to comment!

“She was darkness and he was darkness and there had never been anything before this time, only darkness and his lips upon her. She tried to speak and his mouth was over hers again. Suddenly she had a wild thrill such as she had never known; joy, fear, madness, excitement, surrender to arms that were too strong, lips too bruising, fate that moved too fast.”  
\- Margaret Mitchell, Gone With the Wind

War. Such an abominal word and even more outrageous act. The countries of Drachma and Amestris have always had issues along the border, but the relationship culminated when a Drachman officer shot an Amestrian, the casus belli. Amestrian Führer at the time, King Bradley, was ruthless, sparing lives of no Drachman. Unfortunately, your father Vasily IV of Drachma, was no better. The two mad men ordered their armies to perform manslaughter; executing numerous soldiers, women, children, the elderly. Your father’s acts weren’t to be praised; you felt ashamed of him, his irrationality and barbarism. With the unexpected death of King Bradley during the war, and with the revelation of being a Homunculus himself, the Amestrian officials declared the new Führer to be Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist.

With a new leader, Amestris had two options; to continue on with the war or try bury the hatchet. Führer Mustang felt as if his people were exhausted from the never-ending deaths. They were all meant to be sacrifices for the Father to obtain the Philosopher’s Stone and civil unrest was becoming a customary thing. The war with Drachma was something he esteemed needed to come to an end, one way or another. His people have had enough of meaningless bloodshed and he knew the previous Führer’s errors had to be rectified. Thus, he organized a rendezvous with your father on the border of Briggs demanding for the war to cease. Considering the Drachman mentality to be rather stoic and unyielding, everyone was flabbergasted when the Tsar accepted the Führer’s offer. You never asked the Tsar what had occurred at Briggs, for such a decision contradictory to his behavior to be made.

“My Lady, I have prepared your dress and placed it on your bed. I feel rather displeased you do not wish for me to help you get dressed, but I must obey your wishes.” Irina’s voice awoke you from your thoughts. The night sky was captivating; the Moon shone so brightly against the surrounding clouds. The guests were slowly appearing and were waiting for the guards to inspect their invitations. You have already distinguished the Amestrian officials with their epaulettes and trademark blue uniforms among the crowd.

“My God! You’re in your night dress on the balcony! Get inside quickly before someone sees you in such a state!“ Irina shooed you inside, breaking the spell the sky had captured you in.

“No need to be so concerned Irina,” you said, entering the bathroom, ”even if they did, what would be of it?” Just as you entered the hot bath she prepared for you, she retorted: “That would be extremely improper of a lady like you! No one should see you in such a state except your husband.” Irina put her hands on her hips, as if she was trying to further amplify her point.

“And you.” You smiled it off, knowing not to get in an argument with Irina regarding male-female relationships. The court’s view of what a lady should act like was draconian; to be a baby-making machine and a supportive wife to her husband. Doing anything on your free will as a woman was looked down upon. Considering you were very vocal about your displeasure with such a mindset, the nobles always had things to say about you. Surprisingly, the Tsar always sympathized, allowing you to have your way. The polarity of his personality in different situations was baffling to you at most times.

Irina kept on talking about latest court gossip about a noblewoman who found out her husband had committed adultery. Truthfully, you had zoned out enjoying the warm lavender infused bath. After what felt ages, and when your fingers turned soggy, you decided it was time to start getting ready. The cold air struck your naked form and Irina fetched your dressing gown quickly. It was one you loved the most; silky black with feather trimming on its ends and sleeves.

“I’d gladly wear this as a dress for tonight” You remarked, sitting in front of your vanity. Irina smiled at your comment while shaking her head and went on with her tasks for the evening. As soon as the double doors of your chambers were closed, you started to do your makeup with little to no idea as what look to go for. Casting a glance on your attire for the evening, you’d come up with an idea which would surely give the nobles something to discuss.

Time had passed and your makeup was essentially done. Picking out the right shade of red and applying it to your lips was the last step. Your vanity was adorned with many red lipsticks to choose from, and truth be told, finding one was not an easy task. Puckering your lips in the reflection and batting your long eyelashes was the confidence boost you needed. Needless to say, you felt good and weren’t ashamed to acknowledge it. Taking your long hair from the bun and letting it fall down to your ribs inspired you how to style your hair. Considering you blowdried it before, now it had the perfect volume and flair. The moonlight shone directly on your silky bedsheets giving it an illustrious allure. Everything seemed so lulling and intoxicating, you almost wished to lay on your bed and take in the otherworldly glow. Unfortunately, you had to go to the head to the ball and represent the Drachman royal family. It would be inexplicably rude for the belle of the ball not to make an appearance.

The final touch was to choose the right perfume. After all, the perfume one wears tells much more than words might. While skimming through your on display perfume collection, you speculated what the Amestrian Führer might look like. Father wasn’t very descriptive, he only commended his razor sharp thinking and assertiveness. Of course, as soon as everyone heard the new Führer was arriving to the ball, court gossip girls started to spread some rumors around. Apparently, the Führer was remarkably handsome and a notorious womanizer; what an unnatural combination. You expected the entire evening for the unmarried noblewomen (and probably the married ones) to be all over the newly-appointed Führer. As you rubbed the perfume oil infused with woody and amber notes on your cleavage, you realized you only had to get dressed and you would be ready. The enticing aroma filled up your nostrils, making you feel so powerful and even more confident for tonight.

The clock ticking on your wall indicated there was still time left before the ball began, enough to get the gown on and do some roaming around your portion of the castle. You made your way towards the dresser and searched for the perfect pair of lingerie to go with your planned outfit. It was just for you, for your own satisfaction. Finding the one, you dropped your robe to the floor and stood in front of the grand mirror. First came the sheer lacy panties, then the matching bra, adorning your body’s curves. You took a turn to glance at the garter belt and stockings you’d taken out from the drawer. 

I’ll wear them…for myself!“ You said as you pulled them on, completing your intentions. As soon as you were done putting on your heels and dressing gown again, you decided to wander around. In case someone saw you, the dressing gown could easily pass as a dress, more or less. 

Closing the door behind you, the rustling and bustling coming from the main hall was clearly heard. Fortunately, you were in the West wing, so no one was supposed to be roaming this portion of the castle. Your heels clicking against the marble floors made a resounding sound, suggesting no one was there. 

The castle’s walls were decorated with paintings of generations of the Drachman royal family. Your family’s portrait was the latest one, the current Tsar with his family. Aura of the halls was always macabre, but also enchanting. The orchestra in the main hall played Tartini’s “Devil’s Trill Sonata” which could distinctly be heard in the halls of the West wing. 

The Tsar and Tsarina’s rooms were far in the East wing and heading there meant having to meet the guests halfway. Dressed in lingerie under a thin dressing gown and meeting the Amestrian military officials would probably not have left a good impression. Therefore you decided to go back to your chambers and finish up your look for the evening. 

As you made your way back, the illuminated balcony overlooking the vast forest captured your attention. The swaying curtains called out like sirens and you stepped outside, breathing in the cool air. The night was chilly and a shiver ran through you body, but you decided to stay outside. It was not long until you registered an another person on the other end of the balcony. From what you could make of it, it was a fairly tall black-haired man with broad shoulders. The Moon illuminated half of his head, revealing a very sculptured and handsome face. His attire was clearly Amestrian; the epaulettes and medals were something you recognized from those soldiers before, but his uniform was completely black. He must’ve been someone in the higher ranks. His hands were hidden by black gloves with a symbol you really couldn’t decipher at such a far distance. You did not know how or why, but you felt drawn to him immediately. Was it for the violin playing in the distance and the Moon shining so enticingly? Or was it because of your lack of a male’s touch, you didn’t know. 

You removed your gaze, fearing he’d catch you ogling at him and returned to admire the view. Still, you couldn’t help yourself and tried to look at him with your peripheral vision, but he had disappeared. You blinked twice, trying to understand how he had vanished so quickly. 

“The view here sure is beautiful.” A voice spoke behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to realize who it belonged to. So, you did not, hoping he’d try harder to impress you. 

“I did not know the Amestrians were allowed to roam the castle so freely.” You spoke blandly, still soaking up the view. 

“I am not any Amestrian. Besides, becoming acquainted with the grounds before I command fire is my number one tactic.” He retorted, leaning over the balcony, closing the proximity between you. Your heartbeat was getting quicker by the second and the initial confidence was getting met with your insecurities. 

“Oh, I see. Then, my Führer, I apologize for my indolence to recognize a man such as yourself.” You fake bowed, and took a glance at his face. The Führer released a light chuckle and turned his body towards yours, studying your expression. Surprisingly, he didn’t even take a glimpse of your (un)dressed state. Weird. His black hair was slicked back and his piercing eyes were staring right into yours. 

“What tipped me off besides the attire?” He asked, leaning closer, but still not being intrusive. You gulped before replying. 

“Well, everyone mentioned the Führer to be rather good-looking, prideful and extremely cocky.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. With a closer proximity, you could smell his cologne which was intoxicating. The scent of musk, spice and patchouli filled the air. He smelt so good. His tall frame towered over yours, your forehead parallel to his pink lips. He licked them and smirked, igniting a fire in your lower belly. 

“So, you think I am good-looking, huh?“ Of course he’d cling to that, it was clear as day he was a trained flirt. You would have been lying if you didn’t agree with those women, he oozed dominance and manliness. The look in his eyes glinted with mischief. 

“Just repeating what I’d been told.” You smirked and cocked your head to one side. He chuckled again, and turned around so his back was against the railing. Führer put his hands on either side of the railing and the muscles in his uniform protruded. The sight of his well-defined biceps made you lick your lips and press your legs together. 

“And what about you, Princess?” A breath hitched in your throat as he emphasized the word. There was no denying, he was a suave man and the aura surrounding him emitted authority and strength. 

“Not bad, my Führer, not bad at all. Now I wonder what gave me away?” You laughed out, mimicking the position he was in. At that moment, a blast of wind hit you, revealing your undergarments through the slit in the dressing gown. His eyes went wide for a second and you quickly covered yourself up. So much for wanting to leave a good impression for the Amestrians. Your cheeks became redder by each second, but you tried to regain your composure. 

“Your husband must be a very lucky man to have a beautiful woman like you, Your Majesty.” He spoke lowly, casting away his gaze. There was a slight change in his voice; it was deeper and huskier. The Führer grunting and moaning into your ear as he did all kinds of things to you almost instantly crossed your mind. You realized he was visibly shaken by what happened moments ago and it fed your ego. His comment didn’t go unnoticed, though. 

“I am not married. Nor do I plan to be, especially not with someone my father sets me up with. I am not a toy to be used as means to establish any kind of political aim.” What was meant to be flirting, turned out to be wallowing in self-pity. However, your erotic thoughts about him didn’t disappear. With each passing second you wanted to touch him more. He remained silent, waiting for you to continue. 

“It is different for you, though. You are a man on a powerful position who answers to no one but himself. No matter how high my social or royal status may be, always someone else will be in charge of my life decisions.” The atmosphere between you instantly became somber, “but most importantly, I do not wish to be somebody’s baby-making machine who stays at home and has no saying in any matter. This is probably the reason nobility here doesn’t like me much.” You looked towards him meeting his dark eyes. 

“The reason they do not like you is because they are jealous of you and the way you can voice your opinions, without fearing the backlash. They are just weaklings. As for me, I’d kill for such a beautiful and strong woman by my side.” You blinked twice at his bluntness, trying to evaluate if he was just flirting or telling the truth. Nevertheless, it started a fire in your loins, your panties dampening. 

“Shall we dance?” He offered his hand to you and gave a sultry stare. A rush of air went your way, uncovering your décolletage. The Führer’s eyes were still fixed on yours, neverminding the ample bosom. 

“My Führer, be careful with your words, otherwise my father would not mind starting an another war with Amestris. He’d do anything for his little girl.” You chuckled, accepting his hand. He smirked and pulled you swiftly by your waist to close the distance. The smoothness caught you off guard and a gasp escaped your lips. Again, he chuckled and pressed you even closer, your breasts brushing his firm chest. Chilliness of the night aided you by hardening your nipples and the most powerful of all Amestrians released a small groan. 

Tartini’s sonata turned into a slow romantic piece and the two of you swayed in silence, staring at each other. The barriers dividing you were your dressing gown and his uniform, which you wanted to burn at that moment. He was a really good dancer, who would have thought. While you were thinking about him taking you right then and there (probably over the railing), he spun you around, landing your back to his chest. The Führer grabbed your waist with his left hand and removed the hair from your neck with the right one. You took the opportunity and pressed your backside against his crotch, feeling his bulge. 

“Princess, I didn’t know you played so dirty. Must be a Drachman thing.” He whispered against your ear and licked the earlobe. You moaned as he suckled on your neck, finding the most sensitive spot. His hand was tight on your waist, while yours grabbed his other one, putting it on your right breast. 

“Aaah…” The moans escaping your lips were louder as he kneaded it with his gloved hand. He played with the nipple through the thin fabric while you bit your lip mercilessly. Having him wear gloves while doing it made you even wetter down there. Acting on instinct, you pressed yourself even more against him, grinding up and down. 

“Hm…I wonder what everyone would say; the Drachman princess fraternizing with her country’s biggest nemesis?” He huskily whispered, now pinching both of your nipples and licking your neck. You grabbed his neck with your hand from behind, and kissed him urgently. The feeling was not something you had ever felt before. It was a mix of lust, greed and carnality. His hands were all over your breasts, untying the dressing gown as his tongue dominated over yours. Spinning you around, you broke off the kiss to look at him wantonly. 

“My Führer, I know it would be terribly unbefitting of a young lady like myself to ask of you this,” you whispered in his ear innocently as his hands grabbed your backside roughly. His bulge was burning into your lower stomach. So close yet so far. You impatiently grabbed his gloved hand and trailed it slowly down your stomach to the hem of your panties. Sliding it even lower, he felt your dripping wet core through them, “But could you spare a moment and offer me your services?” The man groaned as you bit his earlobe. His fingers were quick to remove your panties, tearing them in half. As you were astounded by the haste in his actions, he grabbed your hand and lead you to the nearby bench. Thankfully, the two of you were secluded by two large statues of gargoyles lined with poison ivy.

Sitting down with his legs spread, he gave you a good view of his impressive bulge. You stood in front of him biting your lower lip, cold air blowing against your exposed lady parts. He smirked at the sight of you in terrible need of him. The bulge in his tight slacks and commanding nature promoted the ongoing wetness, now trickling down your thighs. He ogled at your body; your transparent bra barely containing your hardened nipples, no panties with black stockings and a garter belt. His gaze was running up and down your legs, all while licking his lips. At the same time, your mind was plagued by vivid images of him thrusting into you relentlessly, and the two of you groaning and moaning each other’s names.

“Be a good girl Princess, and sit between my legs.” His voice was compelling, legs moving on their own accord. As you settled yourself, his warmth engulfed you. Surrendering yourself completely to him was the only thing that mattered.

“Hook your legs around mine.” Your body obeyed, as he removed one of his gloves. The other hand was wrapped around your throat as he inhaled your scent. You kept releasing small whimpers, impatient for his fingers to meet with your drenched vulva.

“Mmm, please touch me, I can’t stand it anymore…” You said, barely above a whisper, whimpering and pressing your backside into his manhood. 

“Good things come to those who wait.” He replied, tracing your inner thigh with his index finger. Your hips tried to move towards his bare finger, yearning for them.

While he was leaving wet kisses on your neck, he let the dressing gown fall down your forearms. His hand leaving your throat, he leaned back to unclasp your bra with one hand. 

“Off with it.” It was a command, and you threw it somewhere on the bench. The dressing gown pooled between you two, as a barrier. Both of his hands landed on your breasts, rolling the already hardened nipples with his fingers. Moans and gasps kept escaping your lips, having you rest your head against his shoulder.

Just as you were about to protest again, one of his hands grabbed your chin and the other caressed your labia. To provoke him, you sucked on his gloved index finger, looking at him from the side. He smirked and stroked the area around your clitoris. That evoke a moan in your throat, his finger still in your mouth.

“So wet for me.” He hummed, puffing air into your ear.

“Aren’t you such a good girl, obeying what you’re told to do?” He grimaced when you bit his finger lightly. Instantly, he pushed a finger inside your vagina as you moaned loudly. His pumping was relaxed at first to test the waters. 

“Aaah!” You moaned in pleasure as he began pumping more frequently. Your right hand aimed to rub your clitoris to amplify the pleasure, but his left hand swatted it away. Without a warning, he entered a second finger, spreading your walls. You were almost out of breath, chest heaving.

“Don’t you dare move your hands, Princess. I won’t hesitate to stop.” He whispered lowly in your ear, shivers spreading through your body. Almost immediately, his left hand left its previous post and began pinching the small bundle of nerves, eliciting loud moans from your throat. The combination of his gloved fingers rubbing your clitoris and bare two fingers pumping inside of you was sending you off edge. Still, you wanted something bigger and thicker inside to pleasure you wholly. You kept imagining his penis sliding across your vulva, brushing against your clitoris before slamming into you. As he was pumping, he slightly curved one of his fingers successfully reaching your G-spot. You held onto his arms for support, moans becoming resonant. 

“My Lady are you there? Your Majesty? Vlad, did you hear something?” Irina shouted out your name frantically. You felt a bubble of pleasure slowly building deep inside of your stomach, indicating release would occur soon. At that moment you didn’t care if they caught you with the Führer; you’d never felt this good and weren’t letting them spoil it. Of course, someone had to be sensible; he stuffed one of his gloves in your mouth to suppress the loud moans. The possibility of getting caught felt arousing and your hips buckled as an orgasm was coming to a close. His fingers did not falter for a moment, now completely drenched in your juices.

“Aaaaaaah!…” You screamed into the glove, clenching your walls against his fingers. The orgasm hit you hard, squirming under him restlessly.

“Check her room again, please. I shall go inspect the library.” 

“Yes, I will.” Their voices were now faintly heard as the Führer removed the glove from your mouth. You turned sideways and kissed him with fervor, wanting more from your tryst. He brought up his fingers and licked them, igniting heat again in your lower stomach. His other hand grabbed your head as he slipped his tongue into your mouth violently.

In the distance church bells rang ceremoniously, suggesting it was more late than you had wanted it to be. His guards would surely have been looking for him by now and if Father heard his daughter was also nowhere to be seen, he’d undoubtedly connect the dots. Breaking off the kiss, you quickly rose to your feet and turned towards him. He smirked at your nude form, eyeing you up and down. Your mouth watered at the sight of what he held in his slacks, but there was no time for that.

“As much as I’d like to stay and help you out,” you spoke hurriedly, bringing the dressing gown to your shoulders and tying it securely, “I must go before my Father finds out I’m not where I’m supposed to be.” He gave an amused expression and pulled you back to him, murmuring in your ear.

“We will certainly finish what we had started,” his fingers played with the elastic band of your thigh highs, “I never leave anything half-done.”


End file.
